


insecurity

by natodiangelo



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Nightmares, promnis if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-21 23:00:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11954490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/natodiangelo/pseuds/natodiangelo
Summary: In some other universe, maybe Prompto is normal.





	insecurity

**Author's Note:**

> me, halfway through writing this: wait isn't it noct's birthday why am i writing these two 
> 
> aNYways i live off of prom being comforted by the bros and i feel like iggys such a mom that he would immediately try to help prom and i just *clenches fist* i love reassuring my boy that hes worth the moon and all the stars and also id willingly die for him to be happy 
> 
> can be read as promnis if you want tho i didnt write it with that in mind 
> 
> also first half is pre-game, second is set vaguely in game

“Prompto, are you feeling alright?”

It takes him a minute to realize that Ignis is talking and another that Ignis is talking to _him_. He jumps when Ignis’ steely eyes meet his own, and though they look more concerned than mad he hunches up his shoulders and looks away.

“I-I’m fine.” He says, and when Ignis doesn’t look satisfied, he adds, “Just tired.”

It isn’t a lie. He’s _exhausted._ He doesn’t think he’s gotten more than five hours in the last week, even with his nodding off in class.

He knows why, of course: nightmares. He’s no stranger to them by any means, but they’ve gotten even worse lately, leaving him nearly afraid to fall asleep. He wishes he knew why they have gotten worse.

Maybe it’s how alone his house feels now, with his parents gone even more than before, barely time for a hello before they’re leaving again. That lonely feeling he gets at night is so reminiscent of his young childhood it leaves him breathless, haunted by memories he’s tried to repress.

Even here in Noctis’ apartment, with its bright lights and memories of fun, those thoughts linger in the back of his mind like a lead weight.

“-Prompto?”

He starts, looking around and realizing that Ignis is right in front of him, eyebrows furrowed and concern bright as day across his face. Prompto sinks into the couch a little further to get away from Ignis’ focused stare.

“Sorry. Spaced out.”

“I noticed.” Ignis purses his lips. “How long have you been awake?”

Prompto pauses. He doesn’t want to make Ignis worry anymore than he already has. He isn’t worth his concern. But he knows that if he lies, Ignis will only be that much more frustrated.

“T-two days? Maybe three.” He shrinks down again at Ignis’ look of surprise.

“No wonder you’re so out of it. Is anything going on at home?”

“N-no! I mean, there’s nothing wrong at home. I just- have… a hard time sleeping.” Ignis gives him one more look, and so averting his gaze he mumbles out, “Nightmares.”

“There’s no need to be ashamed of that.” Ignis says kindly. He finally takes a seat next to Prompto on the couch, folding his legs neatly. “I’m not sure his Highness will appreciate me saying so, but Noct also used to have nightmares quite frequently. I’m not so sure about now.”

“Really?”

“I have no reason to lie to you.”

“No, I- I didn’t think you were lying. It’s just…” He pauses again, looking down at his hands. “Noct just seems so put together.”

“He’s much less put together than you think. It’s not my place to talk about that, however; I just wished to reassure you that you are not alone.”

Prompto and Noctis have been friends for a while now, and with how often they hang out at Noctis’ apartment Prompto has met Ignis many time. But they’re still mostly strangers, just mutual friends, if that. He’s more than a little surprised that Ignis would take the time to talk to him like this.

“If there’s anything I can do to help, please do not hesitate to ask.” Ignis continues, and Prompto looks up at him with wide eyes.

“Why are you so nice to me?” He asks before his mind catches up to him. He immediately backtracks. “Wait no, I didn’t mean-“

“You’re very important to Noctis, Prompto,” Ignis says over him, “It’s part of my job to make sure he is as happy as possible, and if you are not happy, he isn’t either. Besides,” Ignis adds with a soft smile, “I’ve rather taken to you myself.”

Prompto isn’t exactly surprised to feel the prick of tears in his eyes, knowing himself, but he still tries his best to hold them back. He opens his mouth to say something, though he’s not sure what, and it must show on his face because Ignis speaks again.

“Now, about your sleeping troubles…” Ignis stands up again, moving toward Noctis’ small kitchen. He reaches into one of the cabinets and pulls out a few boxes. “Chamomile and mint teas are both good for relaxation. Take your pick…” He pauses momentarily. “We can make some of both to test, if you would like, to see if one isn’t your cup of tea.”

Prompto snorts at the joke, and Ignis gives him a smile.

“That… would be nice.” Prompto admits, and follows Ignis into the kitchen. “Thanks.”

“In the words of our dear prince, _no worries_.”

 

The tea helps. A lot. Prompto doesn’t know how Ignis knows so much about everything, but he’s thankful he does. He makes it during the day, even, when he feels the familiar cold dread of anxiety begin to weigh on his chest. It helps.

 

In some other universe, maybe Prompto is normal. Maybe he’s just a regular human boy who goes to school, and hangs out with his friends, and comes home to loving parents, and can sleep at night without the terrors from his past flashing behind his eyelids. A normal boy who likes photography, and picks up a part time job at the grocery store down the street, and doesn’t have to worry about his prince being killed in the middle of the night by daemons that might somehow get past their defenses. A normal boy who doesn’t have to care about whether he’s holding one potion or two, because that won’t be the difference between whether he makes it out alive or not.

Prompto can’t sleep.

He thinks it’s past midnight – probably closer to one or two, but it’s hard to tell when he’s been awake for much longer than he should be. The moon is low and bright, and he stares at it from the edge of the haven, still within it’s soft blue protective circle but as far away from the tent as he can get.

He doesn’t want to wake them, not for this – not for something he’s dealt with all his life, not for something he can deal with on his own.

He pulls his knees up to his chest, resting his head on them. He can do this. It’s just another way to prove his worth, to prove he’s strong enough to be with this group. It’s pathetic, that he can’t sleep. That’s he’s too wrapped up in his own head to relax, too wound up from weeks of this to be able to calm down. Pathetic, the way his chest aches as he thinks of his friends asleep in the tent. Pathetic, how his loneliness gets in the way of his independence.

Unconsciously, he pulls on the wristband covering his barcode.

Pathetic, how wrapped up in his thoughts he is that he doesn’t even hear the footsteps coming up behind him. It it had been a daemon, he would be dead.

It’s not a daemon, however; it’s Ignis, looking unlike himself with hair down and mussed, sleep clothes well rumpled from sleep. He has his glasses on, however, and those steely eyes look at him with an unconcealed concern as he takes a seat next to Prompto.

“Are you alright?” Ignis asks, voice groggy and stiff but still very much _Ignis._ Prompto bites his lip before nodding.

“Yeah. Totally fine.”

“There’s no reason to lie to me, Prompto. I can hear it in your voice.”

Prompto sighs, slouches down and clasps his hands around his knees, looking out over the trees. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Did you make tea?”

Prompto hesitates. “W-we’re, uh, we’re out.”

“We are? Why didn’t you say anything?” Ignis’ voice isn’t accusing, not like it is with Noctis or Gladio when they mess up. It’s soft and concerned, much too sweet for him to use with someone like _Prompto._

He hides his face in his knees. “Didn’t want to bother you.” He says, because it’s true.

Ignis lets out a small, sad sigh before putting a warm hand on his shoulder. Prompto can’t help but tense under its weight.

“Prompto, you are _never_ a bother.” Ignis says, eyes clear and sincere. “It hurts me, and I know it also hurts Noctis, to see you not understanding your own worth.”

“But-“

“No _buts._ There is absolutely no way you could make me agree with you on this.” Ignis rubs his hand comfortingly across Prompto’s back. “First thing in the morning, we’ll head back into town and buy some more tea.”

Prompto wants to resist – wants to tell him it’s okay, we don’t have to, it’s fine really – but he knows how Ignis will react, and really? He wants the tea. He does. It helps more than he wants to admit, especially on cold nights spent camping, no background noise to focus on, no protection aside from the runes scrawled into the rock beneath them.

He leans back into Ignis’ touch and mumbles out, “Okay.”

“Good. Now, come here.” Ignis holds out his arms, inviting Prompto forward without pushing him. Again, that voice in the back of Prompto’s head tells him to pull away, he’s got this on his own, he doesn’t need to make them do more than they already have – but he feels tears welling up in his eyes so he wraps his arms around Ignis’ torso and presses his face to his shoulder before they can fall.

Ignis’ hands press comforting pressure against his back, one continuing its idle pattern from before and the other reaching up to run through his hair. Ignis smells like nutmeg and spice, and vaguely like the spice from that evenings dinner. It’s a comforting smell, and Prompto presses his nose into the fabric and tries to even out his breathing.

Eventually, Prompto’s tears fade into Ignis’ shirt and his sobs have subsided, and Ignis carefully pulls back enough to look at Prompto’s face. He’s sure he looks gross – he’s an ugly crier, all mottled red and pink, the skin around his eyes flushed and puffy. But Ignis’ looks at him like he looks at Noctis when he thinks no one is looking, all fond and soft and caring.

It’s then that Prompto realizes that Ignis really isn’t lying. That those words spoken all that time ago, before the trip – they weren’t fake, weren’t just to appease some lowly friend of his prince. That him sitting out with Prompto while Prompto cries and cries his pain away wasn’t just because he felt obligated to, but because he truly cares for him.

It takes everything Prompto has not to start crying again, and he presses a hand back over his eyes as he sniffs.

“Do you feel better now?”

Prompto hesitates again, but this time it’s not because he doesn’t want to share; this time, it’s to assess where he really is. After a moment, he nods. “Yeah, I do. Thanks, Iggy.”

“Of course. I’d do anything for you, Prompto. The same goes for Noct and Gladio as well. You’re all very important to me, and I don’t want to see you in pain.”

“Thanks, Iggy, really.” He wipes at his eyes once more before sending Ignis a smile. “I really, really appreciate it.”

“Would you like to go lay down, now? Or we can stay out here for longer, I don’t mind.”

“Can we- can we stay like this? Just a… just a little more.”

“Of course. As long as you need.”


End file.
